PostMarital
by Samuel MacIntyre
Summary: In the 'Rated M' canon; after Sherlock and John's wedding, Mycroft and Lestrade do some much needed catching up. Rimming, Explicit M/M sex, half-hearted dirty talk, all the good things.


Mycroft let the door to his bedroom swing gently shut. With a sigh, he leaned against one of the posts of his bed and loosened his tie. "That," he said quietly, his eyes closed and his head tipped back against the bedpost, "was utterly exhausting. Don't get me wrong, I love Sherlock, but this... All this..." He sighed again and worked his tie a little looser before letting it drop. "This was all too much. And I shouldn't have had that second plate of finger foods before dinner..." Glancing over at Lestrade, he smiled a bit. "You clean up nice, though, so I guess that makes up for it."

Greg smiled at Mycroft and rand his hand down the smooth wood of the four-poster bedpost. "Sherlock looked quite stunning to be honest. John too." He picked open the buttons of his waistcoat and slipped it off his shoulders, folding it and draping it over the back of a velvet chair. "And stop worrying about the food, there isn't a pick on you, love." Lestrade picked his way over closer to Mycroft and undid the top button of his white shirt until there was a V of skin showing.

Mycroft snorted a little and tilted his head back to let Lestrade undo the top button. His waistcoat was still done up, but he didn't really mind. "I'm not worrying so much about the food anymore, but still... I have a feeling that Thai food might come back to haunt me." Of course there was Thai food at the wedding... This was /Sherlock/ after all. Mycroft chuckled a bit, resting a hand on the DI's hip. His fingers shifted and he started plucking Greg's shirt out of the waistbad of his pants.

"And what else could be worrying your mind right now?" Hums and pecks Mycroft's lips. It had been a while with the rush and planning of the wedding, and they had been apart more often than not. Lestrade was determined to make their night count. His fingers started to undo the waistcoat buttons and he leaned in towards Mycroft.

"Oh, you know, the usual. Matters of national security and all that..." He chuckled, pushing forward off the bedpost slightly to catch Greg's mouth in a soft kiss. "But maybe I shouldn't be telling you about that." Slowly, he untucked the other side of Greg's shirt, pulling the tails out of the back of his trousers. "Might get in trouble." Chuckling lowly, he leaned forward for another kiss,this time nibbling at Lestrade's upper lip before pulling back slightly.

Lestrade grinned and slipped the waistcoat off, unbuttoning the rest of the shirt. "We don't want that now, do we?" He kissed back deeply and his hands found themselves on Mycroft's hips, making their way up to his chest slowly. "You might need to be... /Punished/." He removes Mycroft's shirt, reveling in the soft, strangely lavender scented skin.

Mycroft snorted. "You? Punish /me/? Suuuuure." He worked the buttons on Lestrade's shirt open from the bottom, pushing it slowly back and off. He watched it hit the floor and left it there. "Well, that wasn't what I had in mind for tonight, actually. I had something else entirely planned. But..." H shrugged carelessly and glanced off to one side. "I'm sure you wouldn't be interested."

"Oh? Wouldn't I?" He leaned in and whispered it into Mycroft's ear, nipping the lobe a little bit and licking over it. Lestrade pulled back just enough so he could gaze at Mycroft, smiling. "I think I would." He pushed Lestrade onto the end of a bed in a sitting position on the bed, and stood between his legs. "Will you tell me?" The way Lestrade batted his eyelashes, trying and probably failing to look innocent.

Mycroft snorted a little and reached for Lestrade's belt, pulling it out of the buckle and letting it droop. "Well, I was rather hoping that tonight would be appropriately romantic, considering it's the night after a wedding... And... Well..." He smirked meaningfully up at Lestrade, toying with the button and zipper on his dress pants. "But, like I said... You wouldn't be interested would you, detective inspector?"

Lestrade grinned wolfishly. "Not that much, Mister Holmes. But then again, I always find things out..." He leaned his hip forward into Mycroft's fingers and ran his fingers into his hair. "Or do you /insist/ on being secretive, hmm?" He leaned down and kissed Mycroft, slow and warm and deep.

Mycroft smiled into the kiss, letting out a little pleased hum. While Lestrade was distracted with the kiss, he popped open the button and slid the zip down. Despite how much he enjoyed the kiss, he pulled back and pulled Lestrade's hips forward. With the zip down, Mycroft was able to nuzzle against the soft fabric of the maroon briefs that Lestrade favoured. He breathed warmly across the fabric, softly mouthing at the shape underneath.

His breath hitched just a little bit and the fingers in Mycroft's hair curled a little bit. Lestrade resisted the urge to pull him forward; his breath was just so /teasing/. Heat pooled at the base of his stomach and he could feel himself hardening. Before he could stop himself, his hips jutted forward just a little bit, pressing his length against Mycroft's lips. "Oh..."

Mycroft smirked slowly but didn't move to pull the front of those maroon briefs down. Instead, he simply teased at the hardening flesh underneath the thin fabric. Sliding up toward the tip, he paused there, gently nibbling and suckling at it. Eventually, he left a damp patch on the fabric and pulled away to blow lightly across it. His eyes flicked up to his lover's face, watching the play of expressions over it.

Lestrade's mouth had opened and closed a few times, his eyes scrunching. His eyes had flickered closed. "Mycroft..." Shaking his trousers down, he shuddered and pushed his lover down backwards onto the bed, crawling on and straddling his legs. "Mister holmes, we can't do much with these on you now, can we?" His fingers toyed with the button of Mycroft's crisp and expensive trousers.

"Oh, stop calling me Mister Holmes. It makes me feel old." He laughed softly, letting Lestrade work at his trousers as he pulled him down for a kiss. He had actually been planning to continue what it was he had been doing, but this was just as good. "But you can take them off anyway," he murmured against his lover's lips, eyes half-closed. "I mean, I wouldn't want to get creases where there aren't supposed to be creases."

"Not that I would mind." Lestrade smirked against the elder Holmes brother's lips and continued to remove his trousers and underwear. He tossed them to the side, not caring if they got creased or not. "God, you're half hard already." Lestrade slipped his hand around Mycroft's length and gave a small stroke upward. He shifted so he could straddle Mycroft properly and take both of them into his hand.

"Can you... Ah... Blame me?" He chuckled once before tipping his head back and giving a low groan. He hated the fact that they hardly ever managed to see each other, and though he was glad Sherlock was happy, he resented him just a /little/ for keeping Lestrade away from him for the past couple weeks. He brought a hand up and slipped it around the back of Lestrade's neck, fingers pressing and kneading into the firm muscles there.

He stroked teasingly slow, using his thumb to rub circles into their sensitive heads. "...God, you are beautiful, Mycroft..." He leaned into the touch and kissed his jawline, throat, and collarbone. He was leaking precum, and used that as a sort of lube.

Mycroft simply hummed in response, his head still tipped obligingly back. Though he hated to lose the firm, callused touch around his length, he shifted a leg to press his knee against Greg's backside and move him up a bit. He hadn't noticed when Lestrade took off his underwear but he didn't care; he simply took a firm hold of bare flesh, braced the DI aganst his stomach, and rolled them over. Leaning over him with one hand on the pillows next to Lestrade's had, he stooped down to kiss him again, slow and possessive.

Lestrade made an 'oof' noise as they were rolled, but smiled anyway. He kissed back and his hands cupped Lestrade's face. Their lengths were pressed together and Lestrade bent his knees to keep Mycroft against him. He didn't care if the day had been all about Sherlock and John, because Mycroft was the only one that mattered right then. Lestrade leaned back just enough so he could look at Mycroft, and he lifted his hips to grind against him.

Mycroft breathed out a groan and let his head loll forward a bit, his forehead resting against his lover's shoulder. Normally, Mycroft would have been perfectly content to keep on like this, revelling in the soft movement of skin on skin. But he knew Lestrade too well to assume that his younger lover would be content. He kissed him again, just a slow slide of his lips across Greg's mouth, and slid a hand up the soft skin on the inside of his thigh. "I want to try something, love..."

"Anything." Lestrade grinned and sighed, relaxing his knee's grip on Mycroft. The skin on his thigh tingled under Mycroft's hand, his cock pining when it grew closer. His breathing grew shallower and he kissed Mycroft back eagerly, swiping his tongue along Mycroft's lower lip and holding onto his waist.

"Mm. I'mm glad you trust me, Gregory." Reluctantly, he pulled back and rocked back on his heels. "Now, why don''t you turn over for me and make yourself comfortable." He reached up and grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed, fitting it under Greg's hips once he'd rolled over. They were going to have to change the pillow case after this, but that was a small price to pay. "Hold still, now," he murmured, leaning over Greg to reach into the bedside table.

"You always call me Gregory." Lestrade smiled softly, folding his arms under his head and resting his cheek on them. He sighed, and shifted so the pillow was comfortable under him and /not/ squishing his very sensitive area down. From hearing the familiar noise of the bottle of lube being snapped open, Greg shivered, blinking back at Mycroft slightly. "Now, I wonder what you could be planning to do with me." The smirk came through in his voice, and he raised his arse just a little bit off the pillow.

Mycroft stifled a devious little smirk of his own. His hand covered the label on the bottle as he squeezed a generous amount onto his fingers. Snapping the cap down again, he set it on the bed next to Lestrade's knee. One hand trailed up the DI's thigh, coaxing his legs just a little farther apart, before two slick fingers swiped against Lesttrade's entrance. The gel was cold, at first, but after a second on Lestrade's flesh it started to tingle, little bright spots of heat like tiny popping bubbles.

Greg was listening and smiling at the familiar sound of the lube bottle, expecting the familiar feel of the gel on his skin. He hummed and spread his legs wider when coaxed. Lestrade hissed a little when the cold lube first smeared over his entrance, but when the thing started tingling, he gasped. "O-Oh! /What/ is..." He pushed his face into his arms and flushed deep pink. "...More..." He bit his lip and raised his head, pulling a little face at the 'crackle-pop' sensation of the lube, a mix of hot and cold.

Mycroft chuckled, a warm rich sound. "I thought you'd like that. But that's not all, love. You can't tell from way up where you are, but it's flavoured too." He knew that if he stopped there, Lestrade would twist around to ask him why. "I know, I know, you're wondering why." He shifted a bit, leaning down to press a kiss into the small of Lestrade's back. Two fingers teased the taut ring of muscle, and the lube tingled with a little more heat at the friction. "Well, why don't I just show you." One finger slipped in easily enough, and when it had gone in to the first knuckle Mycroft leaned down just that little bit more to flick his tongue against the tight skin stretched around his finger.

The DI listened with curiosity, his head raising from his arms more. The tingling sensations were making his skin more sensitive than usual and with Mycroft's clever fingers prodding at his opening he dropped his head again. "Show me?-Ahh-" Lestrade's breath hitched in his throat and his hips jutted back just a little bit when the finger slipped all the way in. "Oh /God/..." At the light lick of Mycroft's tongue, Lestrade was unconsciously pushing himself backwards against it.

Mycroft chuckled again, breathing lightly across the slick lube smeared across his lover's skin. Under the slightly clying taste of mint he could still taste Greg; a rich, mildly bitter taste that made him give a low hum. His tongue still laved over the taut skin as he worked in a second finger. His fingers were still slick, and when he pressed both fingers deep into the pliant body under him the tingling went with them.

"Oh sweet /Christ/," Greg allowed himself to moan at the stretch of skin, mixed with the tingles of the lube and Mycroft's tongue working around that taut ring of muscle. He wasn't sure whether they were pushed to the hilt or not, but the mix of sensations was mindblowing. "Fast... Move your fingers fast..." He threw his head back and rolled his hips back over the fingers. His cock was straining up against his stomach, leaking pre-cum. Greg slipped a hand down to stroke himself.

He smirked lightly but didn't immediately do as he was told. He kept teasing, just barely rocking his fingertips back and forth. "See, now, if I go and do that all this might be over too soon. Besides... Isn't there something better we can do?" Chuckling quietly to himself, he curled his fingers and thrust them quite forcefully forward. /Then/ he sped up, sliding the pads of his fingers easily over Lestrade's prostate in short little jabs.

"Yes... Yes..." Lestrade moaned into the mattress, his fingers dropping from his cock and onto the sheets so he had something to hold on to. "Oh god yes!" His hips were jutting forward and back with each thrust of Mycroft's fingers and he was starting to perspire. "M-more!"

"More?" Mycroft practically purred out the word, his fingers stilling. "Well, alright, if you insist." Slowly, dragging his fingertips along Lestrade's prostate on the way, he slid his fingers out with a lewd little sound. The cap on the lube came up again, and Mycroft slicked himself quickly. Then, sliding a hand along Lestrade's hip, he pulled his lover's hips back and up as he draped over his back, nuzzling against the side of his neck. "Now, Gregory," he purred, "now why don't you tell me what you want."

Lestrade reached back with his hands and grasped the Older Holmes brother's thighs. "I want you inside me," he breathed, "and /don't/ hold back-" He cut himself off with a gasp as Mycroft's erection pressed against him. His head fell back just a bit onto Mycroft's shoulder and he pulled the man in against him.

Mycroft chuckled against his ear and ground down lightly. "You turn into an utterly wanton little thing in bed, you know. It's amusing... Perhaps I should video tape you sometime." Sliding a hand between them, he steadied his cock with one hand, resting the tip against his lover's entrance. Well... he /did/ say not to hold back... He pushed in in one slick, smooth motion, letting out a low groan as his hips came up flush against the DI's.

"B-better not!" Lestrade chuckled, but his chuckle was soon cut off and heat seared through him as he hissed; pain before the pleasure. He felt Mycroft engulf all of him and groaned, long and drawn out and needy. "Mycroft, move, please." He pushed back and shuddered. The perspiration on their skin was making them sticky. Greg's hand moved down to curl around his own cock and tug.

Mycroft chuckled against the back of Lestrade's neck, playfully lapping up a bead of sweat gathering on his hairline. "Don't tempt me, Gregory." Catching the DI's wrist, he pulled his hand up and pinned it to the bed next to his shoulder. "No... I want to see if I can make you come apart just like this." On that note, he braced his toes against the sheets and rolled his hips back, snapping them forward hard enough to rattle the headboard of the bed against the wall. Not his usual style, but Greg had begged so sweetly... He kept up that pattern, the slow roll out and a snap forward, toes braced in the coverlet for leverage.

Mycroft's sudden movements made Greg growl, his cock sliding in and out of him and making him slicker. "Fuck! Mycroft!" It wasn't a cry of pain, but a cry of sheer pleasure, making Lestrade tip his head back and pant for breath with each rough thrust. A deep, guttural moan rumbled through his chest and tumbled out of his lips. His hips moved in time with Mycroft's, and the DI could feel the erection inside him pushing against his prostate harder every time. "Oh-Oh-" He squeezed his eyes shut and all but shouted with pleasure.

"God, you have no idea what you sound like, do you? I really am going to have to tape you." He muttered the words in a breathless, ragged whisper against Lestrade's ear. He followed up with a nibble to the lobe of his ear, groaning quietly against it. Lifting himself up a bit, he let go of Lestrade's hands in favour of grabbong onto his hips instead, using that grip to pull him back just a little harder into his thrusts.

"Bollox-" He tried to sound annoyed, but that was hardly working with the harsh thrusts and Mycroft's mouth nipping at his ear. He soon went back gradually to his cries of pleasure and tried to resist the urge to touch himself; he was so close, just a few more thrusts against his prostate and- "Yes! Fuck! Myc- Mycroft!" The name was gasped out as Lestrade reached his climax, spurting out and making a sticky mess all over his stomach and headboard. He grasped his cock and pumped the last of his orgasm out. By now he had been rendered silent.

Mycroft made a strangled noise as his lover's body tightened, literally milking his orgasm right out of him. He slumped into Lestrade's back, panting, nose against the back of his lover's neck and his ragged breathing cooling the sweat that had beaded along his hairline. "Oh bloody hell," he breathed out, eyes already closing. Not that he was going to fall asleep like this, but just the relief of finally getting to /do/ this again was making languid heat seep down his limbs to the tips of his fingers and toes.

"That was bloody fantastic..."Greg was panting softly, his arms going limp and his body going slack. "...Have you been practising?" He tilted his head back to look at his lover with a smile. "Or doing some research?" The DI chuckled and let his face collapse onto the mattress beneath him.

"Neccessity is the mother of invention." With a low groan, he pulled out and rolled to the side, hitting the bed with a thud. "But no, I haven't been practicing. Just a lot of pent-up frustration and tension, I suppose. All that stress from the wedding had to go /somewhere/, after all." His head lolled to one side, eyes half-lidded as they raked over Lestrade's face.

He whimpered a little bit when Mycroft pulled out, but relaxed instantly and pulled the pillow out from under his hips. "Hopefully nowhere else but me." Lestrade smiled, then yawned. He shuffled closer and slipped an arm over Mycroft's hips to bring him closer. "I love you..." He mumbled, kissing him slowly.

"I love you too, Gregory. Now go on and sleep, love. You'll need it after that." He cut himself off with a massive, jaw-cracking yawn, his eyes starting to drift shut. He rearranged their limbs a little, trying to get comfortable. He finally had to toss the soggy pillow off to the side to be either washed or disposed of in the morning. Slipping his arm around Lestrade's shoulders, he let him settle close to his side. Lying still like that, and pressing a kiss into Lestrade's graying hair, he allowed himself to relax and drift off to sleep.


End file.
